The Engima of 16

Yesterday morning I had my first exam, which I was sure would be my hardest: an oral explanation of a term from my Intro to Linguistics class at the university.

I was convinced it would be impossible to do well. There was way to much information to study. I had no idea what sort of knowledge level the professor was expecting, or how long she was expecting me to speak. And there was no way I'd be able to memorize 20+ definitions verbatim in French in the few days leading up to the exam.

Yet I received a 17/20... an A in the French system is a 16. In other words, an "impossible" grade. And all I had to do was repeat the important points of a certain theory we had gone over in class, along with some supplemental information. It barely took 5 minutes.

My host mom has gotten into the habit of teasing me each time I come home with an exceptional grade, simply because the first time it happened I was incredibly surprised. But I wasn't just being modest - it was a history mid-term, composed of several short-answer questions. And I knew I had forgotten several important details. Yet I received a 16.

As you all know, it's not that good grades are anything serendipitous for me. But with only a mid-term, perhaps a paper, and a final to evaluate my progress for the semester, it's been hard to determine if my work level measures up to the French education system, even at IES. There's no cushion to cultivate the learning curve.

With our system of more frequent, progressive evaluation, professors can really foster their students' learning, until the students themselves want to learn more about the topic than what's covered in class and form their own opinions on the subject.

I have noticed that I'm not as excited about my grades here. Perhaps because a 16/20 still leaves room for plenty of mistakes. But why is it that we shoot for perfection, while the French aim for a mysterious level showing a certain amount of knowledge? Are American exams easier? Do our professors expect more of us?

I'm still trying to figure it out. 3 exams to go!

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

In the spirit of an exercise we'd do at Mitchell RA meetings last year, I present the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly of this week...

Good - In wanting us to make the most out of our experience here, IES offered us free tickets to a play at the best theater in town, which I went to on Tuesday. You'd think that these free events would only be "cultural," but they don't stop there! Last night I went to a student night at a club. For free. I guess that's what living like a French student is all about...

Bad - One month to go, which means it's time to start studying for final exams AND the standardized French test I have to take as a requirement for my major at Alma. That means no more fun travel weekends, but rather hit-the-books weekends. Though I'm still planning on exploring Nantes a bit as well - after all, the Christmas market will start soon!

Ugly - Yesterday evening I realized that I'd lost my transport pass. This is an ID card that gets me student discounts on bus and tram fares each month, and I use it every day because I live 30 minutes out of town. One of those city responsibilities that I'm still not used to, apparently.

AND my Linguistics class at the university was canceled yesterday morning. Or rather, the professor didn't show up and so everyone got up and left after 15 minutes. It was extra frustrating because I only have that class one day a week and I'm still not sure what I've learned. I really miss the organization and quality of classes at Alma - but I suppose that's why my education isn't free.

Trois bonnes choses!

I couldn't go to bed without sharing a few good things that have happened quite recently, or are fast approaching...

1. I finally made some French friends outside the context of IES! I'd been so discouraged with the fact that French groups of friends are impossible to penetrate at the university, in part because they have the same friends from childhood through college and don't change locations frequently like we do.
But this evening Heidi brought me to Agape, which is a non-denominational Christian fellowship group for young people. (A friend from IES invited her just last week). It was exactly what I've been craving, especially after the wonderful evening at Katie's church in Rome. Perhaps part of the reason I loved it so much was the warm familiarity - all these smiling faces, translated worship songs, and mutual beliefs to share in two languages. And in fact, the group is quite a mix; along with French students from Nantes, there are certain international students and even a few Americans who are now living here for various reasons. Heidi and I even spontaneously volunteered to help with the music next week... playing the congos and singing in French shouldn't be too hard, right?

2. I miraculously received at 16/20 (or an A in the bizarre French grading system) on my poli sci midterm that I was convinced I failed last week. And I'm still not sure how it happened, because apparently our professor wasn't as generous with everyone. Though when I told my mère d'acceuil the good news she laughed, said she knew I'd do well, and told me that I'm just one of those people that's never satisfied... just like her oldest daughter who's studying law in Paris. Nevertheless, I'll be putting even more study time in for the final in December, now that I know what to expect.

3. IES is taking us to visit castles this weekend! And Heidi's birthday is on Sunday! Stay tuned for photos...

Lessons in Grammar, Knitting, and "Economiser"

Accomplishing several things in a single day has revitalized me. Perhaps this is the beginning of my true "adjusting and adapting" according to the W? You can decide. Here's a list, in chronological order.

1. Last night (okay, so I meant the last 24 hours) I managed to find tickets for the Phoenix concert next week in Nantes. I had thought it was sold out, but it's been moved it to a bigger venue so that more people could attend! Their new album came out this spring and it's fantastic, AND the band is actually French. What better than to see them in their home country, speaking to the crowd in their mother tongue. I can't wait.

2. My only class today was Intro to Linguistics, at the university, which I have with two other girls from IES. With a letter from the IES Nantes director in hand, we were finally able to approach our professor and introduce ourselves (usually she's hounded by several students for questions at the end, and so we hadn't wanted to take up her time just to say "we're American"). The letter explains that we're leaving in December and thus we require a separate exam - in our short conversation it seems like the exam might be even easier for us!

3. I found a fantastic grammar book at my favorite Librarie (which is actually a French term for a bookstore). I must have looked at every French grammar book in the store, but when I leafed through the one I ended up buying I knew it was perfect. I'd try to explain, but if you know nothing about French subjunctive tense I might as well write in French! But basically, French grammar and all its tricky nuances will no longer be my enemy!

4. Every conversation I have with my mère d'acceuil (host mother) gets more and more interesting. We eat lunch together on Thursdays because we both have free afternoons. These conversations often turn to cultural differences; last night we discussed holiday customs, and today we talked about the contrast in societal philosophies towards education and jobs. These conversations are always quite fulfilling, not only because I get to practice my French with a sophisticated, friendly French woman, but also because I often re-discover many things about our society that I've taken for granted.

5. Heidi and I finally bought train tickets for our trip to Normandy this weekend... as well as our train tickets for Paris in December, which only cost 22 euro each! As the French would say, nous avons économisé - they have a single verb for saving money. We hadn't planned on buying our Paris tickets this early, but just before I was out the door to meet Heidi in town, my host mother told me that prices for Paris can get ridiculous if one waits too long, and in fact they'd just become available yesterday. And indeed, a one-way ticket to Paris, especially around Christmas time, can cost over 100 euro. Which is $150. (Thank you, exchange rate!)

6. We went to H&M after buying the tickets, just because it's always fun to try on clothes even without buying any. But this was by far the highlight of our shopping adventure. Quite randomly (especially in France where strangers never talk to each other), an elegant elderly woman, wearing a bright blue knitted sweater, came up to us and asked us if we were English or German. We proceeded to have the most pleasant conversation with her (in French of course). She told us about her simple life that she loves, how her granddaughter is just like us, how her half-sister never calls her, how she loves to knit (and had knitted a sweater like the one she was wearing in every color), and how she had returned to the store to thank an employee that had helped her over a month ago when she had a fall there. While we didn't understand parts of what she said, or why she had chosen to talk to us, it's needless to say we felt blessed to have made her acquaintance.

I'm looking forward to more days like this.

La Plongée.

And now, we come to the point in the journey called "The Plunge."

A little while ago, my friend Thea posted this graph on her blog (see "Exit to Right" on my blog list below). Fondly called "the W," it shows how mood swings generally go during a study abroad experience.

From my last entry, it was probably clear that the dust has settled - yes, I'm studying in France, but at the moment it feels like the emphasis is more on the verb than the location. And in fact I'm finding the most difficulties not with the cultural differences or missing home, but with French itself.

And above all, it's my grammar class. While our professor is harsh, from the beginning of the semester it seemed that I'd come out of the class at the end of the semester having greatly improved, thanks to an exponential learning curve (Alma Model UNers know this concept quite well). So why do I feel like my French is getting worse, that I'm making more errors, and then in turn constantly dealing with a timidness to speak complicated sentences?

We had our first of two midterms today, and I have no idea how well I did. I'm definitely not used to this feeling, especially after studying much longer than I have for exams in the past.
And of course, all this doubt (at least for me) leads to thoughts toward the future involving internships, grad schools, careers, success... ugh.

But then I talk to my fellow students and hear my own thoughts and worries in their words. We're all in the plunge. So what can one do but kick off from the bottom to spring back up to the surface?

And so, I'm plugging away, searching for that glimmer of improvement on the horizon.

A Fair Comparison

Today marked the return of my best friend and worst enemy each semester: academic stress. I'm still trying to gauge how much time I have in a day to myself for homework, correspondence with friends and family, and the occasional blog entry. Needless to say, things take a little more time without the privileges of a private dorm room and the convenience of food, study rooms, and classes all within 10 a minute walk!

I didn't even finish my homework last night due to a trip all day Saturday (which I'll recount soon enough), long (and worthwhile) conversations with my French and real family members, and even an unexpected guest for dinner (which turned into a nearly 3-hour affair!).

Nevertheless, I'm pleased that I finally have an idea of what to expect from all of my classes. In addition to the three IES classes I mentioned a few entries ago, I'm taking three more at the university (though I may drop one if things get overwhelming).

The first is Translation (one hour of French to English, then one hour in reverse). Compared to some of my other classes, this one is a little more laid back as the professor is rather jolly and appreciates the 10 or so IES students in the class who are clearly more willing to respond to his questions. Unlike any other class at the University of Nantes, this class puts us at the same level as the French students, just on the "opposite side" so to speak. It's easier for anyone to translate something into his or her mother tongue. Hopefully, having students from both backgrounds in the classroom will also facilitate some cooperation with our translation assignments... thus far most of us have found it difficult to infiltrate French teenage culture.

My other two university classes take place in the same auditorium, which seats about 140 students. And that's one of the smaller amphitheaters. Most of the students at IES come from small liberal arts colleges like Alma, and so we've shared common fears for these intimidating lecture halls. But in fact, they're not too frightening, once you know to sit at the front so you can actually hear the professor read his or her notes for an hour. During my first session I was shocked to find nearly all the students talking through the entire the course, without the prof blinking an eyelash at them (most of the time he was staring at his typed notes, anyway). Needless to say, it's quite a change for me.

Although it hasn't been the most positive impression thus far, it's been quite interesting (as I've noted already) to compare my private liberal arts college education with France's public university system. French students pay next to nothing for university, but I believe that their university is assigned on a certain combination based on where they live, what they want to study, and aptitude tests. Thus, many French students don't take their university studies very seriously - that's not to say that there aren't many who succeed as well. But it seems that a certain attitude is required to tackle this university system - one must be driven and self-sufficient. Profs don't have office hours to answer questions; they simply lecture a certain number of times a week and expect the students to know everything on the exam date.

Sitting in that grand lecture hall, it finally hit me that my classes could very likely have been just so at a huge university in the states as well. Never was I happier to have chosen a little liberal arts college.

The course I'm considering dropping is called "Studies of the Novel" and it's general literary theories about how the idea of the novel has developed in the past 200 years. It sounds like a bit much for 2 credits, no? And I didn't even get to hear half of the introduction. But I'll give it another try this week.

However, the final university class I'm taking is the one I'm perhaps the most excited for, as it's something I've wanted to study for quite a while: Intro to Linguistics, or the study of language itself. I sat up front with two other IES students and listened as intently as possible, but this was in itself far easier because the professor was engaging as well - I love when professors truly love what they teach, because effectively they can show you how to love the subject as well.

So that's the other half of my semester ahead, learning new subjects, educational cultures, and even methods of learning. I have a pile of books on my desk to read by the end of the semester - I have yet to figure out how to pace myself for that - along with exams looming far off in December, yet all the more intimidating when my entire grade rests on the explanation (in French, of course) I can pump out in under 2 hours on the subject.

But for now, my only task is to learn, to acclimate to this new style of learning, and to make practice of that knowledge each day I'm here. Even when this means speaking awkwardly in new sentence structures or inserting new words, reading textbooks on the morning tram, or reporting what I've learned each day to my host mother (who's wonderfully cultured and loves discussing practically everything).

History by Day, Techno at Night

Another lazy Sunday in France - and in fact, it's been a rather lax week. While we started classes this week at IES, classes at the university don't commence until next week. As I have 3 at each location (but sporadic days and times), I had only one or two classes each day, with ample time spent going over each syllabus and generalized subject introductions.

I'm more than ready to jump headfirst into my French classes at this point, especially now that I can get around the city by foot, bus, or tram without pulling out a map every 5 minutes. Though I still carry no less than 3 different maps and train/bus schedules with me at all times.

In spite of this gradual start to the school year, I'm pleased with my classes thus far. The cornerstone will be Adv. French Language and Composition, an intensive mix of all things French grammar. Our professor is one of the few French women who doesn't seem at all afraid to wear color or show off her natural age, and she's an expert at keeping the pace of the class moving at an engaging rate (especially when she randomly chooses students to provide a response, as the pressure's on to provide the correct answer AND say it in a grammatically correct sentence!).

Then there's French Poetry at the turn of the Century, in which we'll study the works of Baudelaire and a few other poets whose work largely influenced "modern" poetry... writing about more than beautiful, perfect women and beautiful, perfect countrysides. Seeing as it's poetry, there's no doubt I'm going to love it, especially as it's clear that our professors madly interested in the subject as well (and as he should be).

For a poli-sci credit, I'm taking a class about the Construction of the EU, from 1945-today. I chose this one because it will undoubtedly provide useful historical knowledge that most Europeans learned in grade school. This will keep anyone from calling me an ignorant American!

I had a few small adventures this weekend. In fact, yesterday and today Nantes celebrated Les Journées du Patrimoine, which means that the majority of museums, public institutions and the like opened their doors to the public to celebrate the city's heritage. However, many of the sites we visited were nearly deserted or rather difficult to find - a similar festival in the states would call for maps posted around the city, shuttle buses, food stands, and advertising everywhere. Still, I enjoyed the free museums, one celebrating the life and work of writer Jules Verne (who was born in Nantes), and the other filled with relatively well-known art spanning from medieval to now.

In dichotomous fashion, Nantes also hosted the Scopitone techno festival this weekend. As soon as I discovered there was a free concert Friday night, my plans were set. Unlike the low-key advertising for the heritage sites, the folks at Scopitone made each concert incredibly easy to find - the website provided a map AND tram stop for each site. Though knowing the exact location wasn't really necessary, as we were able to pinpoint the location of the rhythmic beats the moment we stepped off the tram to follow the crowds across a bridge to the Ile de Nantes.

Nantes' history as a huge shipping port has left it with all these grand warehouses and shipping yards, many of which have become prime locations for conventions and concerts, such as the one we'd chosen to go to (though it looked nothing like this when we arrived). Throbbing with a synthetic beats and strobe lights pulsing from an enormous stage at the opposite end of the warehouse, the building itself was electric with the Friday night atmosphere. We pushed through the increasingly dense crowds, many being of the apathetic smoking bohemian type, until we were close enough to have a good view and enough room to dance. Even in the midst of the unforgiving smoke and castaway bottles on the ground, they were easy to ignore with the sensational live music and the freedom of dancing however we liked.

The length of this entry has shown me that I should consider writing more frequently in shorter installments. Besides, Sunday seems to be the only day that I can devote as much time as I have this evening to a single post! I'll leave you now, as tomorrow I start my first full week (finally!) with an 8am class at the university, a smaller discussion group about a 19th century French novel. I've got to admit, I'm a little intimidated. But I'll see what real French university classes are like soon enough!

Der Spaß beginnt! (The fun begins!)

I suppose it's a good sign that I haven't written since Wednesday - since class has started I've been much busier, in the best ways possible. And after a week, I think I'm finally starting to get the hang of things.

Wednesday afternoon marked the first day of class at the Institute. It was odd to feel that anxious excitement again from schooldays,the feeling that comes with meeting new classmates and desperately hoping to make a good impression. I was one of the first in the classroom, and as I pulled out my dictionary and notebook - already with several pages of scribbled vocab - I watched each person enter cautiously, nervously mumble "Allo", and scan those already seated to decide who would be the friendliest neighbor.

Before class even began, I could already tell that our class had a wonderful spectrum of nationalities and ages - though as a few pairs started trying out their conversation skills, I could discern American accents from two guys about my age. Both are studying abroad like me but will spend a year in Freiburg with separate programs after this month. And the coincidences don't stop there - one is from Michigan and attends U of M, while the other is studying abroad with IES, the same program in which I'll be participating in Nantes. I love getting those small reminders that our world is much more connected than we assume!

Our Lehererin (teacher) is young and wonderfully cheerful - when someone says a correct word or phrase, she has this delightful mannerism where her tiny lips dip into a smile and she lightly nods and giggles. Naturally, all of our instruction is in German, but she speaks slowly enough and explains everything to us with words and improvised drawings on the board. I think all of us feel a bit more childlike because of this, but it actually creates such an encouraging environment in which we're less afraid to ask questions and interact.

It's also been so reassuring to be surrounded with fellow German learners. We try to speak in German as much as possible, but at a comprehensible pace and with similar limited vocabularies. Most everyone here knows English as well, so we end up speaking an idiosyncratic "Denglish" with so many different accents and an even greater number of experiences and ideas. There are German learners from 68 countries at the Institute. Thus, I'm not only learning about Germany and its language, but also Brazil, Italy, Spain, Ghana, Quebec, Greece, Syria - and that's just my class! Who knows the stories I'll hear in the weeks to come?